


So, What Now?

by clearascountryair



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, post-3x22, pure angst, this is angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:12:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6984595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clearascountryair/pseuds/clearascountryair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It felt cliche, terribly, painfully cliche to refer to it as happening in a dream-like state.  But Jemma had no other words to describe it.  She had no units of time to give it.  [post 3x22]</p>
            </blockquote>





	So, What Now?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to agentcalliope for beta-ing!

It felt cliche, terribly, painfully cliche to refer to it as happening in a dream-like state.  But Jemma had no other words to describe it.  She had no units of time to give it.  Had it only been seconds? minutes? hours? since they had raced to find Daisy, alone?  Since they had watched the quinjet disappear from the radar?  Since she had heard her own voice ask the question, “So, what now?” because there was nothing else to ask, and still everything.    
_How can I help?_  
_What can I say?_  
_What do I do?  
What now?_

_So, what now?_

If she were being honest, she had no idea if anyone responded.  She could remember listening ever so intently, but couldn’t say if there was anything to hear.  She remembered standing near Mack when he scooped Daisy up, doll-like in his arms, and was acutely aware of Fitz placing a hand on the small of her back when Coulson told them to strap in.  Maybe he had said her name, maybe he had just imagined it.

_And what about what used to be the other agents?_ she thought to herself.

“I turned up the heat,” she said out loud, time finally slowing down.

Coulson nodded, strapping himself into his own seat.  “I was able to contact some other agents before we left.  Doug should have them contained.”

She nodded.  

And then they had landed. They were home and safe and had one less agent than they had begun with. Daisy was standing now, almost propped between Jemma and Mack, staring unseeing ahead of her.  Jemma could even remember walking to the director's office.  

“Mack,” Coulson said, “Take a car, go check in on Elena.  Tell her... Debrief her.”  Mack nodded and left.  “The rest of you, just...just rest. Fitzsimmons, tomorrow you'll begin work with Dr. Radcliffe--to bring our agents back.  Until then, get some sleep.”  He waved them from the office, May shutting the door behind them. Jemma looked back and forth between Daisy and Fitz for a moment. Giving Fitz a small nod, she put a hand on Daisy's arm.  

“Come on,” she heard herself say.  “Let's clean you up.” She grabbed Fitz's hand as she passed him and, somehow, he was able to give her something like a smile and for a moment, maybe the world wasn't ending.

Slowly, she guided Daisy down the hall, stopping at each of their rooms, somehow thinking clearly enough to grab robes.  The door to Bobbi's old room, Elena's for now, opened as they passed and Mack stepped out.

“I figured she'd like her own clothes,” he said.

Jemma paused, but Daisy continued on, the bathroom door swinging open and shut as she trudged on.  

“She'll be okay,” Jemma said, looking Mack in the eye and searching for some validation.  

Mack nodded.  “So will you.”

She wanted to say _Of course I will_ , or maybe _Why wouldn't I be?_  Instead, she said, “I think he was the only one here who never hated me.”

Mack placed the bag he had packed for Elena at his feet and reached out to Jemma.  “Come here.”  She obeyed, letting him squeeze her tight.  “You know how much we all love you, don't you?”

_No_. “Yeah.”  She gave him a squeeze.  “Give Elena our love, won't you?”

“Yeah.  Take care of our girl.”

Jemma nodded and followed Daisy into the bathroom.  

She was standing there, staring at herself in the mirror.  She didn't so much as flinch as Jemma closed the door behind her, but said in a choked and broken voice, “What did I do?”

“Oh, Daisy.”  She set the robes down on the counter and hugged the other girl.  “You couldn't have done anything differently.”

“I could have stopped him!”

Jemma leaned up and kissed Daisy's cheek.  “No, you couldn't.  And he wouldn't  have wanted you to.”

As Daisy stood there sobbing, Jemma maneuvered her towards the shower, helping her out of her clothes as the water heated.  As she shampooed her friend's hair, all she could think was “Never let me be here,” and she hated herself for it.  She stood there, forcing herself not to cry, and wondered how long ago it had been since their roles were reversed.

* * *

_She told herself it would be okay.  She told herself she could handle it.  But now she’s sitting there like a child, stark naked with her knees pulled up to her chest, too petrified to even reach up and turn off the water._

You’re more than that, Jemma _._

_She hears herself screaming and has no idea if it’s past, present, or future, because her mind has become an infinite loop of watching him slam the button again and again and again and she cannot remember how to save him, or if she can._

_She doesn’t even recognize Skye’s arms around her until she’s on her feet and out of the stream of water._

_Skye pulls her closer with one hand, the other grabbing Jemma’s towel from the hook and wrapping it around her, holding her tight and waiting for the sobbing to subside.  It doesn’t._

_“He made me take it,” she wails into Skye shoulder.  “Why did he make me do it?  I have to get him, I have to help him.  He’s going to die, he doesn’t get to die!”_

_Skye hushes her soothingly, bushing Jemma’s wet hair back from her face.  “Jemma, Jem, look at me, okay?  Fitz is okay.  Just breathe, Jemma.  Just breathe, okay?”_

_She pulls her phone from her pocket and calls someone quickly.  “Hey, weird request, but can I get a selfie?  Don’t be cocky--of both of you.”  She hangs up and a minute later, her phone beeps.  Smiling, Skye turns the screen to Jemma.  Trip is smiling back at her through the screen, obnoxiously, forcefully, and wonderfully cheerful as Fitz scowls in the hospital bed beside him.  “See,” Skye repeats.  “Fitz is up, he’s talking a bit.  Still only when you’re there, but it progress, yeah?  You’re both safe.”_

_Jemma nods into Skye’s shoulder.  “He’s not allowed to die for me.  It’s not fair.”_

_“I know.”  Skye kisses the top of her head.  “C’mon.  I’ll help you dry your hair.”_

* * *

No words were exchanged as Jemma helped Daisy into her robe, combed out her hair, and sat her on the corner stool where Bobbi used to keep her cosmetics.  As she waited for the water to heat again, she pulled her phone from her pocket.

_I’m gonna stay with Daisy tonight_ , she keyed out.   _I love you._  Her fingers hovered over the send button and she can almost hear Daisy’s laugh, maybe one day in the far off future.  “ _You told him you love him_ through text _?_ ”  She erased it and sent the rest of the message, before stepping into the warm stream.  She showered quickly, her heart pounding until her phone beeped with Fitz’s response.  She was already toweling off by the time the reminder beeped two minutes later.

_I’ll see you in the morning_ , he said.  Her phone beeped again in her hands as a second message showed.   _I’ll make you pancakes._ And then, _Or you can make them._

She almost jumped when Daisy spoke, still not looking at her.

“You still can’t do it, can you?”

Jemma shook her head.  “He’s good.  If I text him when I get in, he’ll respond before I’m out.”

In the past, Daisy might have told her to just bring him in the shower with her.  In the past, Jemma would have blushed and sputtered.  But neither says anything more until they’ve gone into Daisy’s room and Jemma’s pulled back the bed sheets.  Immediately, Daisy began to sob, again completely broken.

“Tell him you love him,” Daisy said as soon as Jemma’s arms were around her, and Jemma froze in shock.  “Please.”

Jemma nudged Daisy into the bed, not even bothering to switch her from her robe to pyjamas,  and lay beside her.  “Maybe tomorrow.”

“You do, though?” Daisy’s words come in shaky gasps through her sobs.

“Completely.”

For a moment, there was only silence.

“He died because of me.”

Jemma shook her head and kissed Daisy’s cheek.  “He loved you, Daisy.”

Sobbing, Daisy curled closer to her, but said nothing.  

Jemma woke what couldn’t have been more than a few hours later when someone brushed her hair lightly back from her face.  Blinking in the darkness, she could see May kneeling beside her.  She couldn't even bring herself to feel surprised.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” May whispered at the same time Jemma said,

“Is everything okay?”

May nodded.  “I didn’t know you would be in here.”

“I didn’t want her to be alone.”

Jemma almost thought it was a dream when May kissed her forehead.  In her sleep, Daisy sniffed.

“I can stay.  Get a proper night’s rest, Jemma.  You’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.”  Jemma was about to respond, to insist that she could take care of Daisy, when May added, “I think Fitz went to sleep in your room.”

For a brief moment, she wondered if the offer was less for her sake than for May’s own, and untangled herself from Daisy.

“Goodnight,” she mumbled from the door, watching May sit on the bed and stroke a hand over Daisy’s hair.

“Sleep well, Jemma.”

A minute later, she found herself standing beside her own bed, listening to Fitz’s snores.  Her jumper (well, his, technically) was slung over the foot of her bed.  Quietly, she slipped out of her robe and pulled it over her head.  She crawled into bed beside him and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, tears finally falling free.

“How could you?” she whispered.

“I love you,” she said without meaning to.

“I am furious with you, Leopold Fitz.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.  “I love you, too,” he mumbled.  And then he blinked.  “I love you,” he repeated, and Jemma found herself shaking, sobbing uncontrollably.  

Immediately, Fitz pushed himself upright and pulled Jemma onto his lap.  Kissing the top of her head he whispered, “I’m sorry, Jemma.  I’m so, so sorry.”

“What if you left me like that?”

“I won’t.”

“How could you ever let me live like that?  It’s not fair.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t get to die for me!” she shrieked.  She shook her head, sobbing hysterically into his shoulder.  “What makes you so special that you’re exempt from ever having to live without me, even if that means making me live without you?”

Fitz ran his hands down her sides, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling her as tightly to him as physically possible.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing her cheek, her forehead, her nose, anywhere he could reach, again and again, “I’m sorry.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, breathing him in.  “I need to get out of here.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll meet with Radcliffe tomorrow and then I want to leave.”

Fitz slid so he was lying down, keeping his arms tight around her.  “I’ll talk to Coulson.  He’ll understand.”

“I can’t be here.   _You_ can’t be here.”

“I know.”

She buried her face in his neck.  “I love you,” she said again, her tears renewed.  “I always have.  And I was going to wait.  We were going away and I was going to make sure you knew I love you.”

Fitz smiled into her hair, his hand finding her face and wiping the tears away.  “That would be very romantic.”

Jemma nodded.  “Because I’m the romantic one.”

Fitz managed to laugh and it warmed her whole body.  “I’ll let you be the romantic one.”  He kissed the top of her head.  “I love you.”

Jemma could have laid there until morning, breathing him in and exchanging proclamations of love until it was time to return to whatever remained of their lab, but eventually, she rolled to her side, pressed up against Fitz, and fell asleep.  And when she woke some hours later, sobbing and gasping for air and for him, he was there, whispering his love and his promise to never make her live without him.


End file.
